Page 55 of A Dangerous Bargain

Leonardo shakes his head emphatically. “You wouldn’t believe the things people pay good coin to learn about the ladies and lads of the Baldracca—”

“And I never want to!” The absolute last thing I need to think about is Leonardo in the city’s notorious bordello district.

He crooks a finger, beckoning me closer. Against my better judgment, I give in. “Promise me one thing.”

“What?” His breath smells faintly of the fig jam from breakfast. I imagine he’d taste like it too.

“Don’t try to visit your brother alone.”

Cold souses my fantasy of kissing him. “Why not?”

Leonardo grimaces, like he’d prefer not to answer. “Because when you talk about your brother… you get this look.”

“What sort of look?” I don’t like the thought of him seeing things in me I can’t see myself.

“Like it’s life or death to you.”

I cross my arms and look away, chafing warmth back into the skin. “I don’t like it when you tell me what to do.”

Leonardo grimaces. “I’m not. I’m just trying to look out for you.” Hurt hovers behind the words, and I instantly feel bad.

But not bad enough to take it back. Niccolo is just north of the workshop. There’s nothing stopping me from going to talk to him. It would be faster than all this talking and planning. Each tolling of the church bells feels like the start of a funeral. Every hour I wait is another hour of my life gone. What if Leonardo and I lose the Medici wedding commission and its winning purse? What if I die before I solve Niccolo’s mystery? Who will take care of my mother and sisters then?

“I could help,” a new voice says from the door.

Oh good, and now Lupa’s here too, a white cat in her arms and several more trailing her skirts. Am I the only person in this entire workshop who respects another person’s right to sulk alone?

Leonardo’s mouth drops open. “Is that Buttermilk? I haven’t seen her for days!”

“Buttermilk?” I repeat, aghast. “You named them?”

“Of course.” Leonardo strokes the head of a fluffy tortoiseshell, who hisses and swipes at him. “You’d name them too, if you opened up your heart to the joy of cats.”

“I’m not—I don’t—I’m allergic to them!” I punctuate this with a tremendous sneeze.

Leonardo’s mouth quirks, and he tosses me one of my own stockings as a handkerchief. “The gray tabby is Prancer, this one is Fifi, and the brown stripy one is Mykee.”

“Mikey is a terrible name.”

“It’s short for ‘my kitty,’ because he was the first one who liked me.”

The cat in question bumps his head against the boy’s hand, and I have to admit, something warm and soft crawls into my heart at the sight of their reunion.

Who wouldn’t want to kiss a boy who cares for animals? a small, secret part of my heart whispers.

I promptly tie it to a chair. Then smother it with a sheet for good measure.

“Why do the cats like you? Is this some demon magic?” I ask Lupa. I don’t actually care, but I need to think about anything other than softhearted boys with kissable mouths being kind and gentle to creatures that don’t deserve it.

“Yes. Cats are descended from demons. They can walk between worlds.”

Leonardo freezes, his hand still on the animal’s head. “I thought you didn’t remember anything of your life before you came to earth?”

Lupa lets the mean fluffy cat climb into her lap. “I don’t. But I can recognize my kin.”

Well, that’s horrifying and certainly explains my dislike of cats.

“You said you could help.” Leonardo sidles closer to Lupa. “How?”